


Dead Donkeys Don't Talk

by Pearly_Pornography



Series: TD Mal Is A Snuff Director AU [4]
Category: Total Drama
Genre: Blood Drinking, Cannibalism, Emetophilia, Emetophobia, French Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:49:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Man Man Chi', it's no raw deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Donkeys Don't Talk

**Author's Note:**

> MALEJANDROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He figured the answer to why he freed Brick was obvious -- He didn't have it on tape.

The circumstances were a tad too sudden at the time. He simply never got the chance to stumble through the darkness and set up his camera. Besides, he had more planned for that soldier later on. As with Duncan, he'd simply have to wait until the time was right. Perhaps, once Mike explained things to his dear, obedient friend, and they slowly patched things up, he would tear down the walls once more.

He wasn't really sure who he'd go after next. He considered possibly doing away with Zoey, but then decided it was far too early. Whilst Vito was...well, having sexual intercourse with Anne Maria behind an old diner, he considered fronting and taking her away. But no. He needed someone he loved, for he was feeling a little "torture-lonely" recently after Brick's brutal assault.

It was very lucky, in fact, that he ran into Heather on the wide wide web. Without giving too much of a motive, he asked her if she had any clue where a certain Spaniard was residing. She did, unsurprising as it were, and handed over the address. Even the most manipulative woman on planet Earth could be toyed with by him, it seemed. He quite preferred a reality where he was in control.

In a remote, more rural corner of Canada, he found the small house that apparently held his...second, maybe third crush. As soon as he knocked, someone answered the door. He immediately recognized that perfectly chiseled face, so he slapped the rag over it.

Chloroform was just a bit cliche, but crucial to this one. He was quite far from his workplace, and highly doubted Alejandro would be stupid enough to blindly follow him to an abandoned warehouse. Before he had even taken a look inside, his love was fallen on the floor. Completely unconscious. He calmly tied those luscious, milk-chocolate wrists together and tossed the poor ladies man into the trunk of his car. 

The drive was rather tedious. Every now and then he would stop at a gas station and peer into the trunk. After awhile he moved Alejandro to the front seat so he'd feel a bit less alone. Occasionally he'd tear his eyes from the road to scan the perfect catch he got. Chest rising and falling, mouth perfectly slack...It almost made him want to touch that man, in quite unmentionable places, but he shook the thought away.

That was silly stuff, stuff Anne Maria or Staci would worry about.

He stopped off at his workspace. If he weren't getting paid, he'd take Alejandro right here in the car. But, alas, he needed the money, even if he got it in a less than legal manner. He instead opted for pulling his fresh meat over his back. He was rather lightweight, or perhaps, Mal had just become stronger in more ways than one.

To be quite honest, he found that Alejandro looked far more appealing when tied up and laying on concrete. He got himself a cup of coffee and looked at that boy some more. Tan, smooth-skinned, sleeping like a log. He wondered if his guts were just as eye-catching.

He placed a hand on his face, and then came to quite a shock.

_"I've been awake quite awhile, you know."_

_"...Seriously?"_

_"Chloroform doesn't tend to last long...You've most likely damaged my liver, though. I could have died."_

_"And sacrifice you before we got here? Not a chance. Why didn't you try to leave?"_

_"Even a perfect man carries the sin of curiosity."_

It was enough of an excuse. Or, at the very, very least, it meant that either way he'd have Alejandro in his grasp. And oh, did he like the sound of that.

He tugged up the Spaniard's shirt ever-so-slightly, scanning the vast plane of light brown flesh. It was so tight, and thick, like the skin of a drum, and he wanted so desperately to tear it apart. It was like an endless valley of yellowing grass, and he was prepared to cut it down.

To test the waters, just a smidge, he dug his rightmost fingernail between the two bones making up his clavicles. A bit of fresh blood poured out, just producing a small dab above his chest. Mal lapped it up, salty as it were. He'd be lying if he said he liked the way blood tasted. It was more the reactions it gained, and to his joy, Alejandro was no exception.

He seemed quite shocked, but didn't say much. Just a bit of Spanish mumbling, which Mike couldn't understand for the life of him. (He was biracial, and sadly, Hispanic was not part of that mixture. Even then, he found French to have much more finesse, as languages go.) 

The video camera flickered on. It was visible that Alejandro was doing all he could to remain placid. Perhaps, he thought if he stayed tranquil throughout, Mal would let him go? Ah, he was a smart boy, but Mal was smarter. Miles and miles more intelligent than his victim. It almost made him want to smile, but the things truly worthy of his happiness were yet to come, for certain. 

His fingers curled with anticipation. He dabbed his middle finger into the wound, pulling it down further down, down to his belly button. It wasn't deep enough to see intestine. Tonight that wasn't his intention, as curious as he was. He'd save the dissection for later.

Amy had given him a bit of an idea, so he decided an amputation show would be rather fun. He wanted to see this man squirming under his toe like a spider with its legs snapped off. He laughed to himself at the thought, sticking his reddened finger into his mouth and sucking it dry. His tongue drew up the line-shaped wound, and slid into Alejandro's mouth. Why, he had never had a kiss of his own.

Mike had kissed Zoey before, that was certain. It was brief and innocent, with not enough juice. Vito had done so with Anne Maria, carrying much more vigor. It was sort of like this one, Mal remembered, but not tasting of blood. And it was consented, and Anne Maria did not squirm and whine so much as Alejandro did. Which was fine, since he wanted the kiss that his victim never asked for.

He pulled his mouth away, leaving a line of saliva and blood. His captive coughed and spat in disgust, as though clearing himself of an unwanted demon. He scooped a bit more blood onto his finger, shoving it in Alejandro's open maw. He responded simply by vomiting, then getting twitchy and nervous. An emetophobe? Mal would never have guessed. He simply brushed the goop onto his victim's face, making the twitching only worsen.

He needed more time for this. 

His eyes scanned the surroundings, in search of someplace to hide Alejandro. A locker came into his view. He flicked the camera off, deciding to hold onto this footage for awhile. Certainly it would tide his moderate fanbase over for a bit.

Alejandro landed in the metal locker with a hard smack, and Mal locked the thing from the outside. He leaned on it a tad, listening to the sound of Spanish cursing and skin hitting harshly against steel. He sounded so beautiful, Mal wondered how long to keep him in there for. Perhaps a week, so when he returns, there will only be a shell of him left, covered in waste, starving and exhausted.

He definitely, definitely liked that idea.


End file.
